Daughter of the Lilies
by Alaura Fairfield
Summary: A version of the Arthurian legend primarily centered around Elaine Daughter of Pellinore, shedding a new light on the oft-overlooked wife of Lancelet. Rated PG-13 for sexual content in later chapters.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: Although loosely based on Marion Zimmer Bradley's The Mists of Avalon, this story deviates from MZB's original plotlines and character development. As the legend of King Arthur is indeed a legend, I have the right to take liberties with the characters, as I have done with Elaine.  
  
The countryside was peaceful that morning; the sun rose unceremoniously over the verdant hills, its infant rays dancing across the mirror-like surface of the lake, staining the waters with vibrant shades of crimson and gold. The early summer air was fragrant with the scent of the dewy grass, combined with a spike of aroma from the abundant lilies that spread across the area like a virgin's bridal veil.  
Faint footfalls echoed delicately through the air as a tiny child darted down the lane leading from the formidable-looking castle, flaxen tresses blowing about haphazardly in the gentle breeze wafting from the lake's crystalline waters. Upon reaching the small valley, she plunged energetically into the tall grasses, her laughter musical as she rolled about merrily, pausing before reaching the wide expanse of lilies. Rising to her feet, she stooped slightly, fragile hands gathering a bouquet of the creamy blossoms. Completing her task, the child buried her elfin face in the flowers, inhaling their scent with a delighted sigh.  
Although but a babe six years of age, Elaine had learned to appreciate the solitude of her early morning retreats. Within the stronghold, many an obstacle existed to rob Elaine of her privacy. Aislinn, her fussy nurse, was a constant nuisance to her, always insisting that Elaine behave herself with the utmost of propriety, even at her early age. Her brother, Lamorak, was still smaller than herself, and he clung to her like a burr, following her about the castle in a shadow-like manner, tottering along clumsily on his chubby legs as he exhibited his newly- learned walking skill. And her father, although kind and affectionate, had a tendency to hover over his young daughter, guarding and protecting her as fiercely as could be. However, this valley was her own, and none could infringe upon the airy world of imagination in which she existed when occupying that particular patch of land.  
Floral arrangement in hand, Elaine returned to the narrow dirt path, following the red-brown ribbon until she reached a simple garden, painstakingly kept in order, although its owner had long since passed away. This garden had been her mother's, and her father had sentimentally insisted that it be cared for, for he couldn't bear the thought of his wife's precious sanctuary becoming overgrown and disheveled. Elaine stepped onto the cobblestone pathway that coursed through the garden, striding through the idyllic plot and pausing at the end of the path, kneeling in the soil before her mother's temple. Pellinore's lady was a follower of the Old Faith, and after she married and settled into her new home, she had created her garden as a place to pay her respects to the Goddess. The true meaning of the curious stones and herbal arrangements was lost on Elaine, who had very little comprehension of religion in general, her father being a less-than-zealous Christian and her mother having died too early to instill in her daughter a proper reverence for the Higher Authority. Nonetheless, the child thought her mother's garden to be very beautiful, and although her understanding of the Goddess was very vague, she could feel a strange albeit sublime presence around the makeshift temple. This unusual aura inspired a deep sense of peace within the girl, and her childish mind cared to think that it was her mother sending a message to her from Beyond. Closing her cerulean eyes, Elaine trailed her fingers across the circle of moonstones laid in the dense soil, her voice serene beyond her years as she whispered, "Lady, watch over me."  
  
Author's Note: Please review, so I know if this story is worth continuing. Thanks to all who've read it so far!  
-LB 


	2. Chapter 1

"Oh, do hold still, child," Aislinn sighed with exasperation as she circled the young girl's frame, making sundry small adjustments to the linen gown adorning Elaine's wiry figure. The latter shot an annoyed glare towards her nurse, but complied to Aislinn's command.  
"I'd find it easier to stand still if you would stop pulling on me," Elaine retorted, her delicate face twisting with a wince as her nurse delivered a smart pinch to her upper arm.  
"Don't be sassing me, lass. I'm just trying to make you presentable for court, is all. You're off to live with your cousin the High Queen, and I won't have her thinking that you weren't properly cared for here," Aislinn replied, a shade of wistful sentiment evident in her expression as she regarded Elaine, recalling that the girl was soon to depart from her father's home and Aislinn's own care. Catching her nurse's eye, Elaine viewed the emotions within and flung her arms about the older woman, pressing her smooth cheek to Aislinn's wrinkled one.  
"Thank you, Aislinn," Elaine said warmly as her nurse stroked her cornflower hair. Although the maiden, having attained the most mature age of thirteen, often felt suppressed by her protective caretaker, she knew that she would sorely miss Aislinn's affectionate ways and motherly behavior. A sudden comprehension of the adulthood into which she was about to enter knocked against her heart, causing her eyes to well up with tears of anxiety and mourning for her expiring childhood.  
Noting the damp glisten of Elaine's eyes, Aislinn pressed the girl's hand kindly, speaking in as gentle a tone as she could muster, "Now then, don't be crying. Your eyes will become dreadfully red and puffy..what a sight you'll be then!" She dried the lass's eyes with her skirts, offering a final caress of Elaine's cheek before continuing about her alterations.  
  
Several hours found Elaine's gown complete, her hair elegantly plaited and her trunks packed with all her worldly possessions. Pellinore ordered the latter packed away in the caravan, along with his bridal gift for the royal couple, consisting of several finely-woven tapestries and a set of golden goblets, encrusted with any number of precious gems. After bidding farewell to the household (including a tearful Lamorak, who clung to her skirts while heaving pathetic moans until Aislinn forcibly removed him), Elaine and her father prepared to depart.  
"Elaine, child, whatever are you doing? We must leave as soon as possible; it would be dreadful to be late!" exclaimed her father as he watched the girl dart down the path leading to her valley, her saffron-dyed skirts trailing in the dust.  
"One moment, Father! I have to do something quickly," she called over her shoulder as she approached her mother's garden. Carefully arranging her skirts to avoid any damage to the costly gown, Elaine bent over the small temple within the garden, removing one of the moonstones half-buried in the soil. Clasping it tightly in her small hand, she silently mouthed a rather vague prayer, imploring the "Lady" for a happy life in the court of her cousin Gwenhwyfar. However, she was unsure whether she was praying to her mother or the Goddess of whom the former had spoken of so reverently during her lifetime. Completing her request to the Powers that Be, she slipped the stone within the folds of her cloak and, turning on her heel, raced back to the front of the stronghold, where her father was making ready to depart.  
  
The trip to Caerleon, although long, was fairly uneventful. Elaine spent much of the journey listening to her father's endless lectures regarding proper behaviour for a lady in a royal court and marvelled at the multitude of activities forbidden to her: running, speaking bluntly, eating vigorously, and laughing loudly, among others. As she had engaged in many of these during her childhood, Elaine felt somewhat flustered by her new restrictions. "This will be near to impossible," she thought despondently, her posture slumping somewhat as she stared out of the window of the litter. "I'm going to disappoint everyone.my father, Aislinn, my cousin.." She heaved a deep sigh as she recalled her last meeting with Gwenhwyfar. It had occurred three years prior, directly following Gwenhwyfar's departure from the convent where she had spent the majority of her childhood. Only a child of ten, Elaine had been stunned by Gwenhwyfar's enormous sense of propriety. She was softspoken, industrious and obedient: all the traits that Pellinore described as requirements of the model woman. In addition to her excellent rearing, Gwenhwyfar was stunningly beautiful; her hair was of a purer gold than Elaine's, her eyes a clearer blue, her face more finely sculpted, and her figure more feminine. Although she couldn't help but envy her cousin's many virtues, Elaine noted the almost excessive timidity attributed to Gwenhwyfar, and she had no aspirations to follow in those footsteps. But even in spite of this flaw, Gwenhwyfar was,. In Elaine's view, near perfect. And now she was to marry a High King. "It doesn't seem fair," Elaine thought bitterly, straightening her back in response to her father's command, "Sit up straight! A fine lady you'll be, slumped over like a ruddy scullery maid."  
  
At long last, the caravan arrived at Caerleon. Alighting from the litter, Elaine couldn't restrain an expression of awe as she viewed the fortress, so much larger and finer than that of her father. However, she had little time to admire the stronghold, for Pellinore soon took possession of her arm, speaking solemnly, "Now, Elaine. You must behave yourself during the service; no fidgeting. I want to be proud of my girl." Elaine rolled her eyes slightly as her father clucked her under the chin. "Must you be so condescending?" she muttered inaudibly as she entered the fortress, carefully lifting her linen skirts and willing her overly large feet to move in small, ladylike steps. As they approached the chapel, they found themselves surrounded by courtiers and kinsmen of the royal pair. Elaine recognized several of th faces, friends of her father's from years past: Ectorius, the foster father of Arthur; King Bors of Brittany; even King Lot was in attendance, along with his eldest son, Gawaine, to whom Elaine had been introduced years before. Pellinore kept his daughter close by his side, introducing her to the wives of the aforementioned gentlemen. The women fawned over the maiden, exclaiming over her "uncanny resemblance to the High Queen," causing Elaine no end of amusement. "Imagine comparing me to Gwenhwyfar! I'll never be anywhere near as beautiful as she, and well they know it!" As the group assembled to begin the marriage ceremony, Elaine caught a glimpse of her cousin, standing nervously at the altar. Gwenhwyfar's beauty had only grown since Elaine saw her last; in her pristine white gown, she looked much like an angel. However, the doe-like terror that Elaine so vividly remembered was visible in Gwenhwyfar's sapphire eyes. "Still as fearful as ever," Elaine thought somewhat impatiently, thinking her cousin quite unsuited for such a public position, what with her timid ways. Her gaze drifiting to the opposite end of the altar, Elaine caught her breath sharply...*that* was the High King? Although she'd heard her father and his comrades speak of him as "young Arthur" or "the boy," Elaine had always pictured the High King as a sober man of middle years. The Arthur of her imagination certainly lacked lustrous golden curls, a beautifully chiseled face, and the build of an Adonis. In his fine white tunic, he looked every bit as angelic as Gwenhwyfar, and Elaine felt an odd pang prick her heart as she observed Arthur's reverent gaze towards her cousin. Seated beside Ectorius's wife, Elaine could hear the woman whisper to her other neighbor, "How perfect they look together!", rendering the lass suddenly conscious of her lackluster copper hair and unremarkable features. The mass began shortly after their arrival, but Elaine paid little heed to the service. Her father had never been a religious man, and his daughter was highly unaccustomed to attending a Christian mass. Observing the people around her, Elaine mimicked their reverent bowing of the head and clasping of the hands. However, it was not long before her attention began to wander. Although her head was still bent forward in a prayer-like position, Elaine's gaze drifted about the chamber, finally resting on a most intriguing sight. A strange woman was seated among the ladies of Queen Morgause, wife of King Lot. While several unfamiliar faces were present at the ceremony, this particular female was like no one of Elaine's prior acquaintance. Her hair was abundant and dark, flowing about her shoulders and bound only by a light veil. There was nothing unusual about her garments; no bizarre ornaments did she wear, but something was clearly different about her. Raising her head slightly, Elaine shifted her position in order to obtain a better view of the woman's face. Her features were small and rather plain, but her dark eyes were filled with a mysterious essence that rendered her somewhat attractive. Under closer examination of the woman's countenance, Elaine discovered a rather startling attribute; etched upon the lady's smooth forehead was a crescent- shaped emblem. She initially supposed it to be a scar, but she soon realized that it was a deliberate marking..some sort of symbol. In a sudden moment of awakening, Elaine whispered under her breath, "It's the Sign of the Goddess." Immediately stunned by her own knowledge, the girl turned her head away from the woman, her face blanching with shock. "How did I know that?" she thought to herself, her pale hands gripping the fabric of her gown nervously. As she did so, her finger brushed over a smooth surface: the moonstone from her mother's garden. Azure eyes widened as she recalled the purpose of the garden..her mother's prayers to the Goddess of which Elaine knew so little. The gems had been arranged in a half-circle upon the soil.a crescent.  
  
At the conclusion of the ceremony, Elaine's father quickly approached her, gripping the girl by the arm and speaking firmly, "Now. We must present you to your cousin. Remember, speak only when you are spoken to, and curtsey." Elaine restrained the urge to roll her eyes dramatically as she trotted along behind her father, finally halting before Gwenhwyfar. The High Queen was even more beautiful when viewed up close, and Elaine felt almost frightened to approach one possessing such radiance. However, she had little choice in the matter. Pellinore ushered her forth, his voice sober as he addressed the Queen, "My daughter, Elaine---your cousin, my lady and queen. I beg you to accept her service."  
Gwenhwyfar's flawless face glowed with a warm smile as she looked upon Elaine, who tried her utmost to maintain a ladylike demeanor. The High Queen's voice was light and musical as she replied, "I shall be happy for her company among my ladies. What is your name, cousin? How old are you?"  
Feeling her father's stern gaze upon her, Elaine repeated Pellinore's introduction in as docile a tone as she could muster, "Elaine, my lady, and I am thirteen years old." She could hear her father clearing his throat, reminding her to curtsey. Recalling Aislinn's relentless drilling in this regard, Elaine curtseyed as deeply as she could, the error of which she immediately realized. Losing her footing, she wobbled precariously until she felt a strong hand upon her back, easing her back into an upright position. Her face flushing with embarrassment, Elaine shot a glance over her shoulder at her rescuer. She had seen him earlier during the ceremony, standing beside Arthur as the latter took his vows. She was aware of his identity due to the less-than-subtle whisperings of the ladies seated around her: "Oh, yes.the king's cousin, Lancelet. He's very handsome, is he not?" And indeed, Lancelet was attractive, with a lean physique and dark, aquiline features. Smiling weakly towards him, Elaine murmured a humble "Thank you." The young man replied with a kind smile and a courteous bow before moving towards Arthur, leaving Elaine alone with Gwenhwyfar, for her father had mysteriously retreated several moments before. Gwenhwyfar smiled towards Elaine, taking her by the arm and leading her towards a corner where a plethora of other ladies reposed, awaiting the festivities of the evening. "Lady Morgaine?" called the High Queen, and a petite dark-haired woman turned in response. Elaine caught her breath with surprise; this was the same curious woman who had captured her attention during the mass.  
"Yes, my lady?" inquired Morgaine, her voice rich and pleasing to the ear.  
"This is my cousin, Elaine..she will be boarding with you. I thought I should introduce the two of you as soon as possible," replied Gwenhwyfar, gesturing towards Elaine. "Elaine, this is Lady Morgaine, the High King's sister and the Duchess of Cornwall." Morgaine nodded complacently, inclining her head slightly as she addressed Elaine, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Elaine."  
Elaine felt her voice quaver as she responded quietly, "Likewise." She caught Morgaine's eyes and felt a shudder of recognition run up her spine as she again looked upon the crescent engraved upon the older woman's forehead. This Lady Morgaine was somehow linked to her own destiny; of this she was instinctively sure. 


End file.
